Recovery
by BobRoberts
Summary: Another possible way Connie and Mike's relationship might evolve following 'For the Defense'.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This was originally going to be a brief, fairly fluffy piece, but seemed to evolve into something longer and more rambling, so apologies for that. It is currently a work-in-progress, and updates will depend on when I have time, so sorry if they take a while sometimes. It is also un-betaed, so all mistakes are completely mine - and please if you spot any glaring errors, let me know so I can correct them.

This is set post-'For the Defense', and refers to events in that episode as well as quite a few others.

Also, a note about timelines - since the dates given on the title cards seem to contradict themselves at times, and will probably just confuse things, my timeline is roughly based on air dates of episodes.

**Disclaimer:** As standard - all these characters belong to Dick Wolf, I'm merely borrowing them.

* * *

The trouble with being so good at arguing, Connie thought, was that it became a lot easier to talk yourself out of things.

Though, at times, that wasn't entirely a bad thing. In fact, sometimes it was very necessary, as she'd learned over the years. Such as, for example, when considering getting involved with co-workers.

Unfortunately, she'd not yet reached this conclusion when she first met Marcus Woll. With Woll, she had spent most of the time talking herself into it. Sure, they worked together - but he was charming, and good looking, and driven - and everyone had workplace affairs now and then, didn't they? What was the harm?

Well, she'd learned her lesson there.

It hadn't really been an issue after that. There had been the occasional colleague who had shown some interest, but she'd made it clear that it was a no-go area for her, and that was that.

Then she'd starting working for Mike...

Sure, she'd found him attractive when they first met. But she'd known better, and it was much easier to talk herself out of anything foolish this time. In fact, there wasn't really anything to talk herself out of. After all, they frequently disagreed. He could be kind of an ass. She wasn't even sure that she liked him some of the time - the urge to throttle him had risen on more than one occasion.

However, as they continued working together, she found herself softening to him. She couldn't help but admire his passion and dedication to the job, something she shared. And he didn't need to think about treating her as an equal, soliciting her input, listening to her advice (even if he didn't always follow it). Working with Jack, she had always felt slightly intimidated, and less willing to put herself forward. Working with Mike, she genuinely felt that he saw her as a partner rather than an assistant. It was gratifying.

And as time went on, a little dangerous. It had become easy to forget that he was still her boss. He'd made a few offhand comments hinting that he found her attractive, and she'd found herself becoming more relaxed around him, even allowing herself the occasional bit of (very) mild flirting. However, she'd always reined herself in - the whole thing could only be classified as a thoroughly bad idea. So, she'd come up with a nice internal list of why it should be avoided entirely, and she'd trot it out any time she started thinking anything treacherous.

The trouble was, it had been over two years, and the thoughts hadn't died down. If anything, they'd gotten more frequent, and while she'd found herself internally reciting her list more and more frequently, she often had difficulty remembering all the specifics.

#######

There had been a point when she'd first realized this might be a bigger problem than she'd ever anticipated.

It was after they'd gotten a plea bargain out of Dennis Teal, the man who'd deprived his sister Wendy of medication, hoping that she'd go crazy enough that he'd gain possession of a valuable artifact that she'd inherited after their mother's death.

In the end, Wendy had murdered two people in her unmedicated state before eventually killing herself in prison, and the only way Mike had been able to implicate Teal was to also implicate Wendy, suggesting that the two had conspired together in the murders. Jack had voiced his opposition to the strategy beforehand, and had not been impressed afterward, suggesting Mike had 'tarnished' his character in the process.

Connie had been troubled by the case, though not because of Jack's disapproval - rather the opposite. She'd been in complete agreement with Mike over what to do, and even after Jack's dressing down, she'd not reconsidered her stance. The thing was, she saw Jack's point, and previously would probably have agreed with him. It made her wonder if maybe her ethical standpoint was wavering - which did have her slightly concerned.

It wasn't exactly the first time, either. There had been the a case a few months before involving Chad Klein, who had murdered his father and stepmother. He had managed to persuade his stepsister (and girlfriend) to lie for him, and she and Mike had only managed to get to the truth by faking the medical examiner's report into the deaths and leaking it to Klein's lawyer. Jack had been out of town at the time, so hadn't found out, but Rodgers had, and had not been impressed. It wasn't quite on the same level as this case, but it had still been somewhat dubious, and Connie had been very willing to go along with the deception.

It wasn't so surprising really. After all, Mike didn't tend to let ethics hold him back in pursuit of a conviction, and they had worked together for a few years. Previously though, she'd tended to side with Jack in disapproving of Mike's methods, though she didn't often openly voice any opposition. This case had made her wonder if really, she was just a hypocrite. After all, it was easy to disapprove of Mike's behavior when she wasn't the one making the choice between some 'creative prosecuting' and letting a murderer go free.

Connie and Mike had been in the office about half an hour since Jack had left, his final words still hanging in the air. They had been completing the paperwork for Dennis Teal's plea in silence, though Connie had found herself too distracted to really concentrate. Finally, she'd put down her pen and looked at Mike thoughtfully.

"Do you want to go get a drink?"

He'd looked up at her in mild surprise. While it wasn't unheard of for them to get an occasional after work drink, it was generally to celebrate a guilty verdict, and it was almost always initiated by him - she could count on one hand the number of times she had suggested it. Still, after a moment, he'd nodded, "Sure. This can wait until tomorrow."

They'd gathered up their things and headed to a nearby bar in relative silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Connie found an empty booth, while Mike got their drinks - the usual scotch for him, and a brandy for her, a departure from her normal beer, but she'd been in the mood for something stronger. Mike had raised an eyebrow, but made no comment on her choice.

He placed her drink in front of her, and sat opposite. They drank in silence for a few minutes, before she finally spoke, staring at the table. "I'm not sure what unsettles me more - that I don't feel bad about what we did, or that I don't really feel bad about not feeling bad." She looked up at him then. "If that makes sense."

Mike gave a wry smile as she carried on, "I mean, we put a murderer in jail. And even though Jack didn't like the way it was done, I don't care. I just really wanted to get him." Not that she didn't always want that, but this had felt different. After all, Teal had essentially been responsible for three deaths – and Connie couldn't help feeling like she could have prevented Wendy's death if she'd only done more. So she'd felt as though she owed it to Wendy to bring her brother to justice. She stared at the table again, continuing, "Part of me thinks, well, if justice is done, I don't mind doing what it takes. And then another part feels shocked that I can think that way."

She finished her drink, and sighed. "I guess it just made me question my own ethics. I always thought I knew where to draw the line, but now I'm not so sure." She shook her head. It just felt like such a slippery slope. It had been easy to make these choices in theory back in law school, but the longer she worked here, the more difficult the decisions became. She was worried that the lines were becoming too blurred for her to see clearly anymore.

Mike finished his own drink. "Connie, I'm certainly the last person to be giving anyone advice on ethics." She gave a small snort of laughter at this, and he shot her a look as he carried on, "But one thing I know for sure is that if I can rely on anyone to make the right ethical decision, it's you. In all the time we've worked together, you've never steered me wrong."

She looked up at him then, and he shrugged as he added, "I mean, I don't always listen to you, but I never regret it when I do. In fact, I'm pretty sure I would have been fired by Jack a few times over if it weren't for you." She tried to hide her surprise at his candor. Any sort of praise from Mike was pretty rare, even an acknowledgment of effort was unusual. Not that she expected it – after all, she was just doing her job. Still, it was quite nice to hear now and then.

He looked at her seriously. "So if I were you, I'd just trust your instincts. After all, you're questioning yourself now. I think if you'd really crossed over to the dark side, you wouldn't be doing that."

She nodded slightly at this. "I suppose so…" She paused for a moment, considering what to say, before she continued, "Still, I can't help but feel like a hypocrite. I've passed judgment on you a few times for some of your methods, and yet, if I were put in the same position now, if I'm really honest, I'm not really sure I'd behave all that differently." She couldn't quite look at him as she spoke - she was ashamed of the admission. She'd never truly appreciated how difficult it might have been at times for him to go that extra step, to do what was necessary to get a conviction, all the while accepting her and Jack's disapproval without comment. And while some of his choices she had definitely disagreed with, it was decidedly easier to make that call when only standing on the sidelines.

She gave him a small smile. "I guess I'll have to cut you a bit of slack in future."

He smirked at this. "No, something tells me that you'll give me just as much of a hard time as you ever have. Which is good, because I rely on it." He looked at both their empty glasses, and got up. "You want another one?"

She nodded, and reached for her bag to give him some money, as was their custom, but he waved her away. "No, tonight's on me. After all, we'd never even have gone after Dennis Teal if it wasn't for you."

As Mike went off to the bar, she considered their conversation, and was surprised by how warm she felt after his comments. She felt quite flushed that he thought so much of her opinion. She didn't often admit it to herself, but his approval was important to her, and not just because he was her boss. And she was grateful that he seemed so sure about her integrity, even if she was doubting it herself.

He came back with their drinks, and she smiled her thanks. She considered her drink for a moment, swirling it around in her glass, before looking up at him again, "By the way, I wanted to thank you for going along with me about investigating Teal. I know it would have been easier to have just gone along with Wendy's plea."

Mike gave an easy shrug. "Like you said, it's worth 'dotting every i'. You did all the work."

Taking another sip, Connie shook her head, "Yes, but even Jack was ready to cut me off. I appreciated your support."

Mike raised his eyebrows, looking bemused. "Wow, me coming out more favorably than Jack? Makes a change." She rolled her eyes, though considered that she was much less likely to side unreservedly with Jack these days than she used to.

He gave another shrug. "Hey, you've backed me up on a few crusades myself. I can at least return the favor now and then."

While this was technically true, Connie felt it gave her more credit than she was really due - after all, he didn't need her approval to proceed with anything, he was the boss. Still, it was good to know that he valued her support.

They didn't stay much longer in the bar, as it was already relatively late. As they were about to part ways outside, Connie stopped Mike with a hand on his arm. "Hey, thanks for the pep talk." She looked at him seriously. "I didn't realize it, but I needed one." She held his gaze for a long moment, and unexpectedly felt her stomach flutter a little as she looked at him. He glanced downwards briefly, and she suddenly realized she was still holding his arm. Feeling just a little flustered, she let go as he looked back at her, and then he gave her a casual smile. "No problem."

She noticed her heart was beating just a little faster, and she decided it was definitely time to go. "Ok, night then," she said, with a quick smile, and swiftly turned to walk in the opposite direction, in search of a cab.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Two slightly shorter chapters, so I decided to post them both at once. Next update may take a while longer.

* * *

Connie mused about what had happened on the cab ride home. The touch on the arm could probably be attributed to a few glasses of brandy and no food since lunch. Still, the long look, not to mention her reaction to it, had made her slightly uneasy.

The problem was, these sorts of thing were starting to become more frequent for her. There had been that moment a few weeks before, when she had made some comment to Mike about men in uniform, and then for some reason followed it up with a reassurance that she had grown out of it. Like it mattered, or should matter to him. He'd given her a mildly appraising look, but no other acknowledgment, and she'd swiftly moved on to other things. Best to just brush over that one.

But the real issue seemed to be rather more troubling than her underlying attraction to him bubbling to the surface. Something else had built between them, and she wasn't really sure what that was. He had admitted some of it tonight. He relied on her opinion. He valued her support, even when he didn't need it.

There were other things as well - he made her more willing to take risks, and she in turn held him back where necessary. While even as recently as the previous year, Connie would have considered Jack her closest confidante at work, that had changed. Now she was more likely to side with Mike, or at least to go along with his decisions and trust his judgment, giving him the benefit of the doubt. And although they certainly still had their disagreements, they never really had an adversarial feel anymore - it was as though they were just working towards their middle ground that way.

It wasn't friendship exactly - she still knew very little about his personal life really - but it seemed like... something else. Something a bit more than just working side by side. And that, combined with the spark that had always existed between them, had the potential to lead down a dangerous road. And she wasn't entirely sure how she felt about it.

######

Whatever was happening, she had let it simmer over the following months.

They had gradually grown closer to something like friendship - baby steps, with the odd drink now and then, and the occasional working lunch that turned into a friendly discussion about respective weekend activities, or just whatever happened to be on their minds.

They'd even started having friendly bets with each other over baseball games. It had started out as a one-off, but had become more regular over time. Connie certainly wasn't an expert, but she managed to hold her own, and while usually Mike was ahead, she made the most of it whenever she bested him. Knowing how much he liked losing (though she wasn't that much better), she couldn't resist mocking him mercilessly whenever she got the chance.

Not that he held back on teasing her either. There had been the visit to her old boyfriend that they had made several weeks earlier – Mike had smirked all the way out to the car after they left. She'd finally called him on it ("Ok, what?"), and he'd shaken his head, still smiling, but she'd given him a look, and he'd shrugged. "I just never realized that was your type."

She'd rolled her eyes as she got in the car. "It was high school, Mike."

He had looked thoughtful as he got in beside her. "So what exactly did he mean by you looking respectable?"

She'd ignored him, but he'd carried on, "Because that would imply there was a time when maybe you weren't..." He'd trailed off, before raising an eyebrow at her.

She'd finally just glared at him, and he'd shut up after that, though she'd still seen him smiling to himself out of the corner of her eye.

There was never such a thing as uninhibited teasing though - she always felt herself being held slightly in check, as though she couldn't say whatever she wanted for fear of showing too much. Of giving something away. There was never the feeling that she could fully relax in his presence. At times, it was exhausting.

And there were still some issues between them. The abortion case a month or so before had led to a pretty big falling out. And this time it had felt different, maybe because she'd thought they had come to a sort of understanding about their respective positions on ethics. So she'd felt angry, and hurt when he'd come down on her so hard for following her own instincts - and she'd lashed out as a result.

Professional disagreements were one thing, but with Mike, it could get so much trickier. Everything all got mixed in with their own forever indefinable relationship, and just became so much... bigger. More difficult to leave at the office, and more likely to leave her frustrated with her own inability to separate personal issues from work.

And this had felt personal. She just couldn't help thinking at the time that it shouldn't have to be as hard as this, that it was all getting to be too much. So, in an uncharacteristically impulsive move, she had decided it would be better for everyone if she just walked away.

But apparently Jack had had other ideas.

In retrospect, he had been right. She and Mike hadn't really talked about it much, but with a mutual return to business as usual, they had apparently implicitly decided to put it behind them.

Then recently, there had been the incident at the hotel when she had gone to interview Paige Regan. Paige was in protective custody after agreeing to testify against her boss, Bart Rainey, a known mobster. Connie had just started talking to her when there had been a knock at the hotel door. Paige had foolishly opened the door herself, rather than allowing the detectives to check who was there, and she (and Connie) had narrowly missed being the target of a hired hit man. Bernard had managed to get the guy as he tried to escape, but Paige had insisted on being taken elsewhere. So Lupo had escorted her away, while Bernard and Connie had stayed to wait for the shooting team and give their statements.

Connie hadn't fully taken in what had happened, but she still felt shaken. As she waited in the room with Bernard (in relative silence, to her relief) she resolved in her head to call her mother when she got home, even if it was late. She wouldn't mention what had happened, but it would make her feel better.

The team had spoken to Bernard first, and while she was waiting, it occurred to her that she should probably call Mike and let him know what had happened. They might have real problems if Paige decided that she wasn't going to testify.

Mike had sounded pretty concerned when she'd explained what had happened, even offering to come down to the scene if he was needed. And there had been a small, ridiculous part of her that had almost told him to come, even though there was nothing there for him to do. And after she'd hung up, she'd had to acknowledge to herself that talking to him had made her feel better, even though he hadn't really done or said anything extraordinarily comforting.

There was all of this, as well as the mildly alarming realization that she couldn't remember when she'd last been on a proper date. The last time she'd had a decent conversation with an attractive man while she'd been to get coffee, she'd found herself casually noting that his eyes were a rather dull shade of brown, unlike Mike's, which were a much more vivid shade of blue... and immediately stomped down on the thought. Since when did she compare any man to Mike? He was irrelevant.

She hadn't given the guy her number.

And so, she was still in the dubious position of finding herself unable to decide exactly what she and Mike were to each other - not quite friends, but more than just co-workers. And always with that slight underlying pull of something more physical. However, it had been gradually dawning on her, that whatever this was, it wasn't going away. Much as she'd tried to ignore it, she was going to have to deal with what was happening eventually.

But then, naturally, her whole sordid history with Marcus Woll had emerged.

Not merely in passing either, but as a part of her cross-examination in Woll's trial. When Mike had been prosecuting. So they couldn't even acknowledge it briefly and then never speak of it again - they'd had to discuss a prosecution strategy for it. It would almost have been funny if she hadn't been so mortified.

The thing with Woll - urgh, she still winced internally when she thought of it. Not just because of who it had been, though that was bad enough, but the whole affair, the way it came out. Mike's face as he mentioned it. Above all, she valued his respect, and she couldn't help but feel this had... reduced her in his eyes.

What was more, as a result of the whole mess, Mike had made his opinion on co-workers getting involved very clear – he thought it was foolish, idiotic. And of course, he was right. So that was that.

And now, things were just awkward between them. They certainly hadn't discussed the revelations, and while their working relationship remained solid, even friendly interactions seemed to have been mutually placed out-of-bounds as too uncomfortable. There were no occasional drinks after work, or pleasant talks over lunch, now it was strictly business. She missed the way it had been. Putting everything else aside, they had become friends of a sort, and she had enjoyed it. Relished it, even.

She needed to fix things, but she didn't know how to start, and as she mused over this on the drive to work, she wasn't paying too much attention to the road, and consequently didn't really notice the little old lady behind her until she stopped at the lights, and the lady plowed straight into the back of her.

Then all she saw was black.


	3. Chapter 3

Mike had gotten in early to go over a few things before he had to be in court that afternoon, and had lost track of time. As a result, when Jack wandered in some time after 11, it hadn't yet occurred to him that he hadn't seen Connie at all that morning.

Jack was looking mildly concerned, and Mike braced himself for another lecture on his current prosecution strategy.

"You haven't tried to reach Connie this morning, have you?" Jack asked, frowning.

Mike shook his head, considering the question. "No, actually, I haven't seen her since I got in." It wasn't unusual though – Connie often had court proceedings to attend, and the current state of their relationship also meant that it was unlikely she'd come to him at the moment for anything that wasn't directly related to their current case.

Jack crossed his arms. "Well, we just got a call from her sister. Apparently she got rear-ended on the way to work." He raised his hand at Mike's look of concern, "She's ok, no major injuries, though she's got a concussion, and they suspect there may be some broken bones, they're not sure how serious at the moment. For now, we should probably assume she'll be off work for at least the next week or so, possibly longer."

Mike put his hands on his hips and looked down at the desk for a moment, then nodded, pushing aside his immediate personal reaction to think about the work ramifications. "Right, I'll get to work re-assigning her cases." He started organizing papers on his desk. He looked up at Jack as he continued, "I might have to ask for a continuance on our current case while I get someone else up to speed."

Jack nodded and walked towards the door. "Fair enough." He turned and paused, before adding thoughtfully, "One of us should go and check up on her, give her our best wishes and tell her to get well soon." He considered for a moment, before looking back at Mike, "I'll try and go later today, but if I don't get the chance, can you do it? I'll be going out of town until next week tonight."

Mike hoped his discomfort didn't show on his face as he nodded, though he didn't look Jack in the eye. "Sure, I'll try and go tonight or tomorrow."

Jack nodded again as he walked out. "Ok."

######

It wasn't that he didn't want to see her. There was an alarming part of him that had wanted to call as soon as he heard the news, just to hear for himself that she was fine. A few months ago, it probably wouldn't even have been an issue whether or not to go.

But things were different now. It just felt a bit too... personal. And he'd decided that anything verging on personal was definitely out where Connie was concerned. It was the best thing he could think of to try and recover from the recent events involving Marcus Woll.

Or, more accurately, recover from his own revelations.

He'd just never felt quite so exposed before. Jack hadn't said anything explicitly, but it was clear the DA had read between the lines during the conversation they'd had after Woll's announcement about his relationship with Connie. He'd also obviously given Woll reason enough to suspect something, and that in turn made him question what others might have seen as well...

Was it possible everyone knew, or at least suspected, exactly how he felt about her?

And as for Connie, well, he could only imagine. They certainly hadn't spoken about Woll or anything related since the trial, and frankly, he was happy to leave it there. He was going to keep things as professional as possible from now on - anything else was just asking for trouble.

Not least because of the speculation generated after Connie's admission at the trial. He was well aware that many of his co-workers were watching their interactions with interest, searching for any signs that history might be repeating itself. He was determined not to fuel the rumor mill further. Particularly as there genuinely was nothing to it.

So he'd been careful in recent weeks to keep all conversations related to work, and certainly not to see Connie at all outside the office. If she'd noticed or objected to the shift in their relationship, she'd said nothing, which he'd taken as her agreement with his decision.

He still wasn't really sure how this whole thing had crept up on him. When they'd first started working together, he'd naturally found her attractive, and despite his usual personal rules, he'd considered the possibility of something potentially happening. So, he'd made a few careful remarks to Connie that hinted his thoughts, just to test the waters. And she'd not knocked him down straight off, which was something at least. But as they continued to work together, it seemed clear that she was too professional to do anything like that with her boss – which he respected.

Also, as time went on, he'd become reluctant to jeopardize their good teamwork. Often in the past, he'd been frustrated by colleagues, and while he didn't think he was seen as difficult to work with, he'd not always integrated well with everyone. Working with Connie felt so painless by comparison, and he didn't underestimate the rarity of that for him. Sure, they disagreed sometimes (or he pissed her off), but they always managed to find a point of compromise.

So, he'd reconciled himself to remaining as colleagues, and she was clearly just fine with that. And if he occasionally made a slightly inappropriate comment, or stood a little too close, she didn't raise any obvious objections.

Unfortunately, it seemed that he'd been unaware of his feelings building beneath the surface. The attraction he'd felt to begin with had remained, and as he'd gotten to know her better, and they'd maybe even become friends, he'd unconsciously fallen for her, and fallen hard. And so it was that when Woll had revealed his past relationship with Connie, while Mike had been shocked - flabbergasted even - the overwhelming emotion had been jealousy. So much so that he'd been floored.

He'd considered Connie as a kindred spirit - she was married to the job. Just like him. After all, she seemed to have about as much of a personal life. And after working with her for years, he'd thought it was pretty obvious that she would never consider any sort of relationship with a colleague.

Apparently he'd been mistaken. She'd just never consider that sort of relationship with _him_.

Not that he'd ever truly allowed himself to think that she might. But it had still felt like a blow to the stomach to have it confirmed. And then just to make it worse, he'd then gone straight to Jack (his boss of all people) and started rambling like a idiot, giving away exactly how he felt. So now, he just felt like he needed to distance himself from her, try to regroup a little bit.

And so it was, faced with the necessity of going to see her outside work, he was feeling a bit uneasy.

He'd gotten fairly caught up in organizing their workload to allow for her absence, and consequently hadn't left the office that night until fairly late. As a result, he missed visiting hours, so had to put it off until the next day, which was a Saturday.

He left home just before lunch, armed with a card from the office staff, a stuffed bear that Jack's secretary had apparently thought Connie would like, as well as strict instructions from her to get some nice flowers, and headed to the hospital.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** As far as I know, the only things we know about Connie's family are that she has a sister, and her father was a doctor in Spain, so if I've gotten anything else wrong, please feel free to correct me.

* * *

When Connie looked up at the knock on her door to see Mike, she shouldn't have been surprised – Jack had called the day before to see how she was, and had mentioned that Mike would be stopping by. Even so though, she couldn't quite help feeling slightly flustered, and suddenly very aware of the relative flimsiness of her hospital gown.

He walked in looking about as comfortable as she felt, carrying some flowers, a card and a stuffed bear, and Connie was suddenly sorry that her sister had already left. Her parents were currently in Spain visiting relatives, and while she'd managed to persuade them not to cut their trip short on her account – her injuries were fairly minor after all – her mother had apparently instructed Elena to keep a close eye on her in their absence. Her sister had been that morning, but had needed to go into work to make up the time that she'd missed the day before, and she'd promised to return later.

Connie straightened up in bed and tried to smile. "Mike, hi, come in."

Mike cleared his throat. "Hi. Uh, Jack sent his apologies he couldn't stop by." His eyes had the same slightly distant look in them they'd had for weeks now, but she thought she saw them softening a little as he asked, "How are you feeling?"

She shrugged. "I feel ok really, considering." Her ankle was fairly swollen – the doctor had confirmed it was a fracture - and she had a pretty big bump on her head, but all in all, she felt fairly lucky. She didn't remember a great deal about the accident, as she'd been knocked out pretty solidly, but apparently she'd been thrown forward when her car had been hit, striking her head on the dashboard and jamming her leg underneath. The concussion was fairly minor though, fortunately, and there were no other broken bones.

Mike handed her the objects he had been carrying. "Here you go, the office wanted you to have these." She laid the flowers and the card on the bed, and studied the bear for a moment in bemusement – it had a bandage on its head, and a plaster on its leg. She wasn't sure exactly what the message was supposed to be. Mike seemed to notice her thoughts, adding offhandedly, "The bear wasn't my idea."

She gave a small snort of laughter, and looked up at him. "It's ok. It'll be nice to have a kindred spirit to keep me company." She picked up the flowers. "These are lovely. Be sure to say thank you to everyone."

He nodded, putting his hand in his pockets. "So what's the verdict? How's the head?"

Connie considered. "Well, my ankle's broken, but the break was clean, so I won't need surgery. They kept me overnight because of the concussion, but there's no reason to keep me any longer, so hopefully they'll let me go today." She would need to come back to get her cast put on once the swelling went down, but she knew she'd much rather be at home than in hospital.

Mike raised his eyebrows, "They'll discharge you so quickly? Well, that's probably a good sign."

She nodded, but then frowned, adding, "I won't be able to get around very easily though, and the doctor said I'll need to keep my leg elevated when I'm sitting, so I don't know how much I'll be able to do at work for a few weeks." That was possibly the most annoying thing about this whole situation. At best, she'd be on desk duty until she could walk properly again.

He shook his head dismissively, "Don't worry about that – we've re-assigned all your workload, and I've got Matt Simpson covering for you as second chair on the Rousch case." He made a face as he said the other man's name.

Connie nodded, "Ok, well, tell him to get in touch if he needs anything from me. I'll send him my notes when I get the chance." She couldn't resist a small smile, adding, "I'm sure you'll enjoy working together." She (and the rest of the office) had been witness to more than a few rants by Mike directed at Simpson, who was generally competent, but could occasionally be sloppy with details. She'd normally feel bad for the guy, but he was also an arrogant jerk. She couldn't really hide her amusement at the thought of Mike having to bite his tongue with the man enough to get their work done.

Mike smirked, staring at the floor. "Yeah, well, let's just say I'm hoping that you get well soon. Otherwise I may end up alienating most of the office." While most of the time he managed to keep any grumbling about the staff to just herself or Jack, Connie had found herself acting as buffer on more than one occasion. Mike didn't always appreciate that not everyone was like them, willing to work all hours and forgo any personal plans to get a case completed.

She shook her head. "I'm sure you'll manage."

Mike smiled to himself. "Either that, or end up killing someone myself."

"Well, if it comes to that, at least you know a few good lawyers," Connie pointed out.

Mike nodded, "True, and I do know the DA pretty well. I can imagine him wanting to make an example of me though." He looked up at her then, and they shared a smile, their first genuine one in weeks.

Connie opened her mouth to respond, but was stopped by a knock at the door, as her doctor walked in, looking at a chart. "Ms Rubirosa, I have good news – we're happy to discharge you now. We just need you to sign some paperwork." She glanced up at Connie and smiled. "We'll make an appointment for you to come back tomorrow and have a cast fitted." She looked sideways at Mike, then back at Connie. "Is there someone you can have take you home?"

Connie frowned. "Just my sister, but she won't finish work for a few hours." She considered her options. There weren't many other people she would feel comfortable asking to pick her up. "Can't I just take a cab?"

The doctor shook her head, "I wouldn't recommend that. You'll probably need some help getting yourself home, especially until you get used to using the crutches."

Connie sighed. "Alright, I'll wait until my sister comes back then." It wasn't ideal, but she could manage waiting for a while. She didn't want to bother Elena at work, her sister's boss was less understanding than her own.

As the doctor nodded and walked out, there was a moment of silence, and then Mike cleared his throat. "You know, if you need a ride, I've got my car with me…" He trailed off, looking at her mildly.

For a moment, she was too surprised to respond. She'd certainly never considered asking him to help, and frankly, she was taken aback that he'd offered, particularly given the current uncertain state of their relationship. She managed to force out a reply, shaking her head, "Oh, no, that's alright – I'm sure you have other things to be getting on with."

He shrugged. "Not desperately." He tilted his head at her slightly, raising his eyebrows, "It's no trouble, really."

She considered for a moment. She still wasn't entirely sure about it, but she did want to go home. And this was the first moment approaching friendship that they'd had in weeks – she didn't want to brush off his gesture. Finally, she nodded, smiling, "Ok, if you really don't mind. Thanks."

######

As he drove Connie to her apartment, Mike thought about what had possessed him to make the offer. It wasn't as though she wouldn't have got home later anyway, and he actually did have work that needed doing.

The truth was, he wanted to do something to help her out, feel useful. He was relieved she was ok. And to be totally honest with himself, he had missed her company these past few weeks. Despite his good intentions to remain distant, deep down, he just wanted to be around her as much as possible. He could allow himself a moment of weakness.

Connie had tried throughout the journey to get through to her sister, but ended up giving up and leaving her a message as they arrived at her building, and headed into the parking garage to find a space. There was a small amount of awkwardness as they got her out of the car, but she got onto her crutches and up to the apartment in the end, while Mike carried her bags and the flowers from the hospital. He had been to Connie's apartment building before – occasionally dropping her off after working late – but he'd never been up to where she lived. As she let him in, he tried not to be too obvious as he looked around. It was pretty much as he'd expected – not huge, but nicely furnished and tastefully decorated.

Connie gave him a grateful look as he came inside. "Thanks for carrying those – can you just leave them on the table?"

He placed her things down, and glanced around, "Anything else you need doing?"

"Oh no, don't worry, my sister should be over soon." Connie seemed to consider for a moment before she moved towards the kitchen. "Actually, I was just going to make some coffee. Would you like one? A thank you for helping me out?"

It was probably a bad idea, but he had already come this far. Plus, it seemed rather callous to leave her alone when she'd just returned from the hospital. He nodded, "Ok, but you should sit down, I can handle the coffee."

He managed to navigate his way around her kitchen, and made their usuals – cream, no sugar for Connie, black for him. He also glanced in her freezer on a whim, and as he'd suspected, found an ice pack in there. He knew she often jogged when she got the chance. He came out to find her looking reasonably comfortable on the couch, with her leg stretched out and propped up on a pillow. He offered her coffee, as well as the ice pack.

She looked at the ice pack in mild surprise, before giving him a smile. "Thanks. The doctor did say I should try and keep ice on it while the swelling goes down."

Mike shrugged as he sat down in the chair next to her. "I broke my foot as a child. I remember ice being pretty handy at the time. That, and painkillers."

"I've never broken anything before now," Connie said, taking a sip of her coffee. "I guess I wasn't a particularly adventurous child."

He couldn't suppress a snort of laughter. "Neither was I, just careless." It was true – he hadn't even broken it doing anything exciting, just dropped a box on top of it.

There was a pause, and she looked thoughtful as she drank her coffee. "It's funny, isn't it? In the past few months, I've had death threats, and been shot at, but it turned out to be a little old lady who put me in the hospital." She gave a little laugh, "Guess I know who to look out for in future."

Mike had to acknowledge, he had been concerned with how much her life (both of their lives even) had been in jeopardy due to their jobs lately. Admittedly, there was a certain amount of risk involved when dealing with police investigations and prosecuting criminals, but recent events seemed to have taken things further than was reasonable. And while he was ok with making these choices for himself, he didn't really like the idea of asking her to put herself in potential danger.

Something in his thoughts must have shown on his face, as she suddenly looked slightly contrite at her comments. "Sorry. It's been a strange few months. I guess it's easier to try and laugh about it."

They were interrupted by Connie's phone ringing. As she answered it, he took the opportunity to look more closely around her living room. She had several bookcases, mostly filled with what looked like law books (he spotted a few of his own on the shelves), though he thought he saw a few pulp fiction novels too, as well as some classic literature. There were pictures of people he assumed were her family dotted about, as well as some that he recognized as a younger Connie, with longer hair.

It was strange, this glimpse into her personal space. Connie wasn't an excessively private person – he knew general things about her family and her life outside of work – but they had always kept a degree of distance between them, as he did with all his colleagues, preferring some separation between work and home lives. He had to admit though, in spite of himself, he was enjoying the opportunity to see this more private side of her.

She hung up the phone, and shot him a smile. "My sister. Just checking up on me."

He nodded, "Understandable. I guess your family must be feeling a bit protective after everything that's happened recently."

She shook her head. "I haven't really mentioned much of it to anyone, I didn't want to worry them." She shrugged, "I'm still not sure how happy they are about my choice of career. My dad wanted me to become a doctor, like him, but I preferred law. I argued with him so much about it, I don't think I changed his mind, but I think he realized that I'd probably make quite a good lawyer."

Mike smiled. "Yeah, when I first mentioned I was going into law, my mom said something about there not already being enough lawyers in the world." He took another sip of his coffee. "I think she's happy I found something that I enjoy though." He looked over to see Connie watching him with interest. He knew he never really spoke about his own family. Feeling a bit self-conscious, he changed the subject.

They chatted for a while longer, before Mike glanced at the clock, and realized that more time had passed than he'd thought. This was getting a bit too comfortable - he needed to leave. He placed his cup down on the coffee table, and looked over at Connie. "I should probably get going."

She nodded, "Sure, I don't want to keep you."

She moved to get up, but he stopped her, "No, don't worry, I can let myself out." He continued, "I'll talk to Jack about what to do once you're feeling well enough to come back to work." He nodded at her ankle, "Don't push it though. Don't want you coming back before you're ready."

He headed towards the door, but turned around as he heard her say his name.

"Thanks for all your help." She gave him a soft smile. He looked back at her for a moment, and couldn't help wondering how, after just being discharged from hospital, she could still look so… lovely. He gave himself a mental shake, and returned her smile briefly, before letting himself out.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Hmm, for a story with no real plot, this is certainly dragging itself out. Still, I think I see an end in sight, and things should pick up a bit in the next chapter. Once I get it written, anyway.

* * *

Connie was bored.

She had been pretty much stuck in her apartment for the last few days, with not much to do other than watch TV and read. She'd been back to the hospital and had got a proper cast put on her ankle, but had been told not to put any weight on it for at least four weeks.

Apparently Jack and Mike had talked about the best way to handle her situation, and they had agreed that the most sensible solution would be to let her work at home. She wouldn't be able to do much on any current trial cases, being bound to her desk, so she would be dealing mostly with paperwork and research, and being at home meant that she didn't have the hassle of making her way into the office. There also wasn't really space for her to be sitting at her desk with her leg propped up, as she'd been told to. She had internet access at home, and could get to her e-mail and some other things remotely, so it would be straightforward enough.

Connie had to admit, she could see the logic, and she was relieved she wouldn't have to tire herself out getting into work every day, but it still sucked. Not just because it meant that she'd basically be doing admin for the next month or so, but because it meant yet more time at home on her own. She wasn't the sort of person who required constant companionship, but when she had nothing much to do, and she couldn't really get out, she started to feel more lonely than usual. She tried to at least leave the apartment every day, if only to get a bit of exercise, but she did feel pretty worn out after each trip. Her sister had spent as much time as she could at Connie's apartment over the weekend, helping get things sorted out, but Elena had a life of her own, and she couldn't stay all the time.

A few of her friends had managed to stop by as well, but most of them were generally either as busy at work as she usually was, or had families and other obligations. She also was rather ashamed to admit, she'd let a lot of her close friendships slide when she'd started working at the DA's office. She had tried to keep in touch with people as much as possible, but there were only so many hours in the day, and given the choice, she had usually chosen work over her social life. It hadn't really bothered her before – at least not enough to rectify the situation much – but being somewhat cut off from the rest of the world really emphasised how relatively isolated she'd let herself become.

So here she was, at two o'clock in the afternoon on a Tuesday, with nothing to do. She sighed. She could try calling the office. She hadn't had much contact with them over the past few days other than giving Simpson, her replacement as second chair, all her notes and answering a few questions. She had also spoken to Jack, who had said that he didn't really want her doing much this week, as she needed to recover - but she felt fine, and she was liable to go crazy if she didn't get something productive to do soon. She picked up her phone, and found Mike in the contacts list.

Mike. There was another reason to try and keep busy. With nothing but her thoughts to keep her company, she found herself thinking about him more and more frequently.

At least the atmosphere between them had been slightly less awkward the other day, which was a relief. In fact, while she had felt a bit self-conscious at first having him in her apartment, it had ended up being surprisingly... natural. He had seemed marginally more relaxed around her than usual as they'd chatted, she supposed because they were completely removed from work. She wasn't sure she liked to admit it to herself, but she hadn't really wanted him to leave. Anyway, it was good that their relationship seemed to be getting back to something close to normal.

She dialled his number, trying to remember if he had court that afternoon.

"Mike Cutter."

Obviously not. "Mike, it's Connie."

"Oh, hi." He sounded distracted – probably still focused on whatever he'd been doing before she called. She suspected that without her around, he was even busier than usual. "What's up?"

"Well, I gave everything on the Rousch case to Matt, so he should be up-to-date now. Also, I was wondering... if maybe I could get some appeals to start working on? Or maybe take a look at whatever's lying around?"

There was a sigh. "Connie, if it were up to me, I'd be happy to dump you with all my paperwork right now. But you know what Jack said."

She'd been expecting this. "I know. But you wouldn't have to tell him. Besides, isn't it up to me to decide when I'm ready to get back to work?" There was a pause as he considered this. She continued, "Look, how would you feel being trapped at home with nothing to do?"

She heard him slowly exhale. "Well, maybe I can give you some files to read through. Just don't tell Jack."

She grinned to herself. "Thanks, Mike."

There was some shuffling of papers in the background. "I probably won't have time to drop anything off until this evening though. Will that be ok?"

She hadn't really thought about the fact that he'd need to come by to give her the files. She began to feel a little bad about asking now. "Um, sure. As long as you don't mind."

"No, it's fine. I'll see you later."

Damn, that meant she'd have to tidy her apartment. She'd slipped into a habit of not really clearing up after herself – it took much more effort to put things away than usual – and sitting on the couch most of the day didn't exactly inspire her to do much housework. Still, at least it would keep her occupied for a while.

######

In the end, Mike hadn't arrived until after she'd ordered food for dinner. She normally quite enjoyed cooking, but with her ankle as it was, it made it more difficult to move around easily in the kitchen. Elena had offered to cook for her whenever she could come round, but otherwise Connie had resigned herself to take-out for the next few weeks.

So, when she heard the buzzer, she assumed it was her delivery guy, and was clumsily clutching the money whilst leaning on her crutches as she answered. When she realised it was Mike, she buzzed him in, staying where she was by the door - she'd learned it was easier than moving away and coming back.

She was still holding the money as she opened the door, and he raised an eyebrow when he saw it, amused. "Didn't realise I was getting tipped for this."

"Oh, hi, sorry." She shuffled backwards to let him in, feeling slightly embarrassed. "I thought you were my food."

"Afraid not. All I have are some tasty appeals to look through." He opened his briefcase and pulled out some files, putting them down on her coffee table.

Connie shrugged as she closed the door and sat back down on the couch. "Sounds good to me." She peered at the stack of papers, picking up one to glance through. "What have I got?" It probably said quite a lot about her that she was feeling almost excited about the opportunity to read through a pile of paperwork.

"Well, there are still a fair number of appeals to deal with for cases that Woll worked on." Connie nodded at this, but gave no other visible reaction. Mike continued, "There are a few others in there as well. We can go through the ones you're not so familiar with."

She nodded again, putting down the file as she looked up at him. "So how's working with Simpson going?"

Mike gave a tight smile. "Not as bad as I was expecting."

"Must be nice to work with someone different for a change."

"You're kidding, right?" She thought she saw a brief, affectionate smile flicker across his face as he looked at her, but she decided she must have imagined it. He continued, shaking his head, "At least I haven't made him cry yet."

She managed a wry smile, before asking, "Is the trial preparation going ok?"

Mike frowned. "It could be better. I think the mother's lying about something, I just can't figure out what."

Connie thought back to when she had interviewed the woman – she had been cagey about something. "You may be right. Let me take a look at my notes, they might jog my memory." She retrieved her laptop from under the coffee table, and brought up her file on the case, as Mike sat down in the chair nearest to her. Her interview with the mother had been on her own, the day before her accident, and while she'd written some notes about it, she hadn't really had a chance to go over it much in her head. She knew that Mike had been back to speak to the woman himself though, just to be sure nothing was missed.

They went over their respective interviews, and had managed to find something they agreed wasn't quite right, when the buzzer went again.

Mike was up before she could move. "I got it." He answered the buzzer and picked up the money she'd left on the end table, accepting the food from the delivery guy and placing it on the coffee table. He glanced down at the bag before looking back at her. "Look, we can leave this for tonight if you'd rather eat now."

Connie shook her head dismissively, "No, I think we're onto something here, I'd like to get to the bottom of it." She gave a small laugh. "Besides, I'm pretty used to eating while I work by now."

"Ok." He sat back down, watching as she emptied the contents of the bag out onto the table.

She suddenly realised how unfair it was to make him watch her eat when he probably hadn't eaten himself yet. She gestured at the food, "Help yourself if you want some."

He considered for a second, then shook his head, "No, I couldn't steal your dinner."

She shrugged. "It's fine, there's more than enough for me." She'd ordered plenty – it was odd how hungry you could get sitting around all day. Maybe it was the boredom.

As if on cue, Mike's stomach rumbled loudly. He looked slightly sheepish, peering into one of the cartons, before looking back at her, "You don't mind?" It wasn't unheard of for him to finish her food whenever they ordered it at work.

She shook her head absently, her mind already returning to what they had previously been discussing.

So they went through the case as they ate, and Connie was struck by how much this was like being back at work, in the office working late - and how much she was enjoying it. They agreed that Mike should speak to the mother again the next day, and then he quickly went through the pile of appeals that he'd brought, answering any questions she had.

Eventually, he sat back in his seat. "Right, I think that's everything – sorry it took so long." He gave her a quick smile. "Thanks for the food."

Connie shook her head. "No problem, I appreciate you stopping by." More so than she probably should. She added apologetically, "Sorry to disturb your evening."

He shrugged. "I'd only have been going over the case anyway. I think I made more progress with it here." He got up from his seat. "Well, give me a call if you get stuck." He paused for a moment, then looked back down at her. "I might get in touch again about the case, maybe just pick your brains, if that's ok? Simpson's good, but... well, it can help to get another opinion."

She smiled, flattered that he still wanted her help. "Sure, I'm happy to stay involved."

He pointed at the empty food cartons. "Want me to get rid of these for you?"

"No, that's ok, I'll take care of them."

He picked up his briefcase, and headed for the door. "Well, have a good night – what's left of it." He nodded at the pile of papers. "Let me know if you want some more files to look at."

She smiled back at him. "I will. Thanks for coming by."

He let himself out, and she continued to look at the door for a few moments after it closed, thinking to herself. Then she gave herself a shake, and picked up one of the files on the table to read through. She might as well get started now – at least it would distract her from more... unproductive thoughts.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Sorry this took so long – real life getting in the way.

* * *

Mike wasn't sure how exactly this had happened. He was sitting in Connie's apartment, next to her on the couch, watching a rerun of the World Series, eating take-out – and they had barely spoken about work all night.

Whatever was happening, it had started off gradually, even innocuously. After the first time he'd come by to drop off some work for her to do, he'd assumed he might have to stop by again occasionally – maybe once every few weeks until she recovered – just to give her more to work on whenever she ran out. In fact, he'd considered that even that much might not be necessary if one of the legal aides in the office was able to deliver the required files instead.

However, he hadn't anticipated a couple of things. Firstly, while they were able to solve simple issues over the phone and through e-mail to begin with, when Connie stumbled across a more difficult problem with one of her appeals, and they tried to sort it out on the phone, they'd just ended up going round in circles. Eventually, he'd sighed, and suggested that he come over and they try to figure it out in person – it would be easier if they were face-to-face, and if he had the files in front of him – and she'd agreed.

So only a few days after he'd previously been there, he'd found himself at her apartment again. They had managed to find a solution after a while (and much head-scratching), and he'd been all ready to get up to leave, when she enquired about goings-on in the office.

He thought about it. "Well, it's been busy. We've got a new case from Bernard and Lupo to look at." Fortunately, it looked like it would be pretty straightforward for once, as the guy had actually confessed, so Mike was happy enough to give the majority of the work to Simpson to handle. He couldn't suppress a smirk as he remembered an incident from earlier in the day. "And Jack was on the rampage earlier, yelling at one of the other ADAs. Made a nice change not to be on the receiving end for once." He shrugged. "Other than that, pretty much the usual."

Connie smiled to herself, a little sadly. "It's strange – you wouldn't think I'd miss all that, but I kind of do."

Mike looked over at her, and it struck him that she did seem a little down. It couldn't have been much fun being taken off her current cases and left with a pile of appeals to slog through. He knew how restless he'd feel in her place. He had been meaning to update her on the Rousch case, just to see if anything jumped out at her – Connie tended to be good at noticing little details that often got missed – but he hadn't planned to do it tonight, as he didn't want to take up too much of her time at home.

Looking at her now though, he changed his mind. "You know, if you have a few minutes, we could go through where we're up to with the trial preparation, see if you have anything to add."

He tried not to feel too pleased by her answering grin, but didn't really succeed.

So they'd talked through the case, and he'd updated her a bit more about happenings at work – he figured that would help make her feel less excluded from the action. He'd ended up staying for a while just chatting with her.

And from then on, they'd fallen into a strange pattern, where he'd stop by every few days, they'd go through where she was up to with her appeals, he'd update her on trial progress, and they'd talk for a bit, often while eating take-out. It wasn't really necessary, but neither of them objected to the arrangement. They didn't really stray that much from work topics, but the atmosphere between them was more relaxed than it usually was when they were at work. It was fair enough that Connie would be more at ease – it was her apartment after all – but he was too. He did feel that with the absence of co-workers constantly scrutinising their interactions, he could allow himself to loosen up with her a little.

Anyway, he found himself looking forward to the visits more and more, which was setting off warning bells, but not enough to prevent him coming. And that was the other thing he hadn't counted on – his own desire to be around her. Despite his previous firm resolutions to avoid spending any unnecessary time with her, particularly socialising, it seemed that he couldn't stop himself.

Still, he'd never been that great at obeying rules – apparently that even included the ones that he'd made for himself.

But he told himself that it was harmless enough. After all, his visits were work related, and they'd only be necessary for a few weeks until she could come back to work, and then they could go back to business as usual. Besides, he got the feeling that she enjoyed having company. He didn't kid himself that it was him in particular that she wanted to see (he was sure visits from anyone were welcome), but he was glad that he could at least help cheer her up a little.

And then it came to tonight. He'd arrived to find her watching a baseball game, to his surprise – he wasn't aware she was much of a fan.

She'd smiled sheepishly at his bemused look. "I had it on in the background while I was working. Just trying to pick up some pointers for next season. Thought I'd try and improve my predictions, give you more of a run for your money."

"So what do you think?"

She'd made a conceding face. "Not bad. It's actually been quite exciting." She'd moved to turn it off, but he had stopped her. "No, leave it on if you like. I can still work with it on. Wouldn't want you to miss out on who wins."

She'd smiled. "Ok."

They'd kept the TV on with the intention of only half watching, but had ended up getting caught up in the action. So, they'd given up on working, and were watching the final few innings as they ate some of the food that Connie had previously ordered. It was nice. It made Mike feel uneasy though. While he could maybe justify being here for work-related reasons, hanging out watching baseball certainly didn't come under that. That was what friends did together.

Well then, maybe they were friends now. That wasn't so terrible. If Connie was ok with it, then he could handle it too.

######

It was a few days before Christmas, and Mike was about to stop by at Connie's apartment briefly, just to make sure she was all set before the holidays, and to pick up the appeals that she had recently been working on.

Earlier in the day, he and Simpson had been called back to court to hear the verdict on the Rousch case. The defendant had been found guilty on all charges, so Mike had figured that was worth a quick celebration drink, even with Simpson, so they'd gone to a local bar right after work. Now, he was feeling... not drunk, but a little buzzed at least. Frankly, it was a pretty bad idea for him to go over to Connie's in this state – he didn't need to be any more loose around her than he'd already been the past few weeks, but he'd told her he was coming, and he did need to pick up her files, as he was planning to work on some of them over the holidays. Besides, he thought he should tell her the verdict, as she'd paid no small part in getting the conviction.

So he headed over there, with the full intention of leaving as soon as possible.

"Guilty on all counts," he said as Connie opened her door.

She moved backwards to let him in, smiling. "That sounds like a good result."

He nodded as he sat down on the couch, "Yeah, couldn't really have asked for any better."

She sat next to him, propping her leg up on the coffee table. She seemed to prefer sitting in that position to lying across the couch. She turned to look at him. "I bet Matt was happy to get a win on his first big case."

He nodded again. "Yeah, I took him out for a drink earlier, I figured he had it coming." He inclined his head towards Connie, "Obviously, if you'd been there I'd have gotten you one too."

She shook her head. "I appreciate the thought, but I think the credit on this one goes to you guys."

Mike shrugged. "I'd say everyone deserves to celebrate a good outcome." He gave her a quick smile. "I guess I'll just have to owe you a drink."

She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well, I just ordered food, and there's some wine in the cupboard I was thinking about drinking with it, but I'll never finish the bottle by myself." She raised an eyebrow at him. "We could always share it if you like. You can still buy me a drink some other time."

Danger. Danger. He could hear his brain shouting at him to refuse – hadn't he been planning to leave as soon as possible? Although, another part of him pointed out, what harm could one drink do? It wasn't as though he had no self control, he could manage staying a while longer. And it wasn't like they'd never had a drink to celebrate the end of a case before. So he went to get the wine, poured them each a glass, and sat back down next to her.

She turned her head to look at him as she sipped from her glass. "So, what did Jack have to say about the verdict?"

Mike smirked. "Oh, you know, he grunted in acknowledgement of our efforts."

She gave a small snort of laughter. "It's nice to be appreciated."

He shot her a smile, before adding, "I think it's good that we got a verdict before the holidays though." That was really more for Matt's benefit – he would be able to enjoy Christmas without worrying about the case. It was good for Mike too though, now he could concentrate more fully on some of the other upcoming cases without being distracted by this one. He'd found that this was a good time to get caught up on work, without many other people in the office to disturb him.

Connie nodded in understanding, as he took another sip of his wine. He could feel it going to his head a little, but he ignored the sensation.

They lapsed into silence, and he leaned back in his seat, turning his body slightly towards her in order to see her better. She had her arm propped on the back of the couch, with her head resting on her hand, and he noticed they were much closer to each other than usual, though she didn't move away from him. She seemed lost in thought.

Her eyes drifted back up to look at him, and he raised his eyebrows, silently enquiring about her thoughts. She gave a small shrug. "I was just thinking about Christmas. It'll be nice to catch up with everyone. I don't get to see them as often as I'd like."

"Does the whole family get together?" They'd never really discussed holiday plans before now, though he knew that she generally went to her parents' house for Christmas.

She nodded slowly, "Yes, as much as possible. It can get a little manic, but I always enjoy myself." She looked down at her glass, swirling the wine around, smiling gently. "It's nice when we have children there, takes me back to Christmas when I was younger, remembering all the excitement. Not being able to sleep on Christmas Eve."

He watched her - eyes sparkling, cheeks flushed, smiling softly to herself in quiet reflection - and couldn't help but be struck by how enticing she looked. His eyes were drawn to her lips, and he found himself hit with a sudden, overwhelming compulsion to slowly lean in and kiss her, just to see what it would be like. She met his eyes, and he knew he was looking at her intently, but she didn't look away, and they held each other's gaze for a long moment.

He felt almost frozen in place, and for a second, he wasn't completely sure what he was going to do. She was still looking at him, with an unreadable expression on her face, not moving. Then, he noticed her eyes flick briefly down to glance at his mouth, and the thought flashed through his mind that maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't mind if he did kiss her. So he'd almost decided to close the final distance between them, when the door buzzer went, making them both jump slightly.

He got up from the couch remarkably quickly. "I guess that'll be your food." He answered the buzzer, and waited by the door, his mind racing. Christ, what had he been thinking? He was a fair way towards drunk, and she'd been drinking too, not to mention all the other reasons why it was a bad idea. This was probably one of the dumbest things he'd almost done in quite a while.

He retrieved the food and placed it on the coffee table, but didn't sit back down. "You know, it's actually probably better that I get going."

He risked a glance at her, and she was looking at him with slightly wide eyes, a little flushed, but she nodded, managing a small smile. "Right."

It occurred to him that he hadn't got the files that he'd come to collect, but he wasn't about to stick around long enough to get them now. He moved to leave, adding, "I'll, uh, probably see you in a week or so. Have a nice time with your family."

"Yes, have a good holiday."

He nodded, and shut the door behind him, trying to convince himself that it wasn't so bad. Nothing had actually happened, after all.

Hopefully, by next week, all of this would be completely forgotten.


	7. Chapter 7

Connie looked over at Mike sitting on her couch, his attention focused on a file he was reading, and sighed internally. Since he'd arrived, he'd seemed pretty intent on just getting through the work that needed to be done, with minimal chit-chat. Any efforts made by her at initiating conversation were met with pleasant, but fairly short answers.

She made another attempt, asking, "So, did you have a good holiday?"

Mike glanced up briefly at the question, but shrugged noncommittally and continued frowning at the file in his hands. "You know, the usual." But then he surprised her by continuing the discussion, asking in return, "What about you?"

She figured he was being polite, but took the opportunity anyway, thinking about the question. "Well, it was nice to see everyone, and my mom didn't hover too much." Her parents had returned from Spain just in time for Christmas, and had been anxious to check up on her, but they'd relaxed once they were satisfied that she was alright. Connie had had a permanent seat on their couch throughout the holiday, whether she'd liked it or not, but her ankle had healed enough that she could put some weight on it, so she'd been allowed to help decorate the tree at least. She smiled, "I think I ate enough food for at least a month though."

"Yeah, I think that's pretty common," Mike remarked, as he made some notes on a piece of paper.

She continued dryly, "However, my absolute favorite part of the holiday was when my sister decided to show my starring role in 'Larry Plus Ten' to any of my relatives who hadn't already seen it. Plus a few who had." She shook her head. It had been bad enough putting up with the jokes when it had first aired, she hadn't needed to be reminded of her brief brush with 'fame' again. Elena was lucky that Connie was still grateful for the help with her ankle – otherwise some sort of revenge would have been necessary.

Mike still didn't look up from what he was reading, but he smirked. "I bet that was fun for you."

She smiled wryly to herself. "Sure, who doesn't enjoy ritual humiliation? Isn't that what families are for?"

He gave a small snort of laughter, "Yeah, I guess so."

He didn't say anything more, and she figured that was it for social pleasantries now, so she tried to concentrate on what she'd previously been doing. Her thoughts began to drift though, as they had been doing so often recently. She found her gaze coming to rest, almost involuntarily, on Mike, which seemed appropriate, as he seemed to have become a permanent fixture inside her head lately.

They had been spending a reasonable amount of time together before Christmas, not just working, but more socially as well. That was unusual. Not that she'd minded. On the contrary, she'd often found herself waiting for the evenings when he'd come over with anticipation. And while it would have be easy to blame that on her general lack of company, she knew that wasn't the real reason. Though she was always happy to see her sister, Connie hadn't looked forward to Elena's visits nearly as much.

It was nice, having him in her apartment, just the two of them, spending time together. She'd found herself almost dreading the day when she was fit enough to go back to work, and there would no longer be an excuse to have him come over.

And then, there had been the... incident.

They'd just been sitting on the couch, talking. Innocent enough conversation, albeit over a glass of wine. When suddenly she'd looked up to find him watching her closely, with a look that she couldn't quite identify. He'd seemed to be considering something, but the intensity in his gaze had made her stomach flutter, and her face flush, and she'd found herself holding her breath, waiting to see what he was going to do. They'd not moved for a moment, until they'd been interrupted by the door buzzing (her food being delivered), and then he'd made some excuse and left. And she'd thought over and over about what had happened once he'd gone, and kept coming back to the same conclusion.

She was fairly certain that he had been about to kiss her, and she was also pretty sure that she wouldn't have had a problem with that at all.

So, over the holiday, she'd been unable to stop herself thinking about the situation between the two of them. She'd always deliberately never spent much time considering exactly how Mike felt about her. While she'd acknowledged to herself early on that there was a mutual attraction between them, thinking about anything more than that had been too dangerous, and so she'd just avoided it altogether.

At least until Woll had appeared in front of her apartment the day of his trial, and tried to suggest that Mike was more bothered by the case (and everything else) than he let on, because he had feelings for her. She had dismissed it all at the time as another of Woll's mind games - and also because it was just easier that way.

When she'd thought about it over Christmas though, the way they'd been acting around each other since her accident, coupled with what had almost occurred between them that one night, had forced her to accept that maybe, he wanted exactly what she wanted - something more than friendship - even if they were both unwilling to admit it to each other.

It was a slightly scary conclusion to reach - she wasn't entirely sure how to deal with the revelation. So, she'd been alternately welcoming and dreading the prospect of seeing him again. However, once the holidays were over, and she'd gotten back to work, she'd found that he seemed to be avoiding her.

She'd e-mailed him with simple questions about work, and he'd replied as usual. But whenever she called him, it always seemed to go to voicemail, and she'd leave a message - which would receive an e-mailed reply. He apologized in the e-mails that he'd missed her calls, claiming that he'd been in court, or otherwise occupied... but he'd always found time for her before now. And when it came to delivering more files for her to work on, he'd sent a legal aide. That was entirely reasonable, except that previously, he'd always come himself. She had a feeling it wasn't a coincidence. He was backing away from her. Again.

In the end, something had come up with one of her cases that had meant he was unable to avoid her any longer, and so he'd come over tonight, after over two weeks of no direct contact. She'd let him in, and now here they were, working intently, only really speaking when necessary in order to resolve any issues that came up with what they were doing.

After they'd been working for an hour or so, he cleared his throat, "Ok, I think that's it."

She sat back in her seat. Normally, this would be a point at which they might talk about his current trial case, or things going on at work, or even just have a general chat. But she had a feeling that any attempts to get into that tonight would be useless. So she nodded, "Right, thanks for the help."

She thought for a moment, then decided that it was time to broach the subject of her return to work. Any issues with Mike aside, she was keen to get back into the action now she was almost better. She spoke up, "By the way, I was thinking - since my ankle's fit enough to walk on, at least some of the time, maybe I can start coming into the office again?"

He frowned slightly, considering this. "When did you want to start back?"

Connie shrugged, "As soon as possible. Monday?"

He nodded slowly, "As long as you feel up to it, and Jack agrees, then it's fine with me. You still might not be on any active cases until you're fully recovered, though."

"Ok, fair enough." At least it meant she wouldn't be stuck at home anymore. And, she couldn't help thinking, he'd find it much harder to avoid her when she was back at work.

Mike got up to leave. "Right, well, I guess I'll probably see you next week then."

She nodded, and once he'd gone, she started thinking about how she was going to deal with the current status of their relationship. Obviously, Mike had decided that he was going to pretend all the events before Christmas had never happened, and seemed to have made up his mind to simplify things by spending as little time as possible around her.

Before now, she might have been ok with that - after all, it negated the need for any awkward conversations, and meant that there were no difficult decisions to make. But if she was honest with herself, she'd had enough of denial. She had tried ignoring this thing between them, and repressing her feelings, and look how far that had gotten her.

And she couldn't help thinking that if they carried on like this, they'd eventually reach breaking point - maybe one night when they'd both had too much to drink, or they were feeling tired, or just had their defenses down - and something would happen that they wouldn't be able to ignore, and they'd be forced to deal with the fallout whether they liked it or not. Their working relationship could end up irreparably damaged, which was the last thing she wanted. At least if they faced up to this now and went into it eyes open, they'd have a bit more control, feel more prepared for what to expect. Make decisions in an informed way.

It also occurred to her that Mike could be holding back because he didn't realize how she felt. While he'd given a few hints as to his interest in her, she'd always tried her utmost to keep her own feelings under wraps, and she knew that she'd generally been successful. It was possible that he believed she just wasn't interested.

Either way, it seemed that the ball was in her court. If they were ever going to resolve this, she was going to have to make a move.

Fine. In that case, she would.

######

However, it seemed that making that decision, and actually plucking up the courage to do something about it were two different things. She'd been back at work a few days, and things between them had basically gone back to business as usual – colleagues, nothing more.

Connie knocked on Mike's door late in the afternoon. He was sitting at his desk, throwing a baseball from one hand to the other, lost in thought, but he looked up at her knock. She came inside - she was still using her crutches a little, but her cast had been removed a few days before, and she was almost walking completely unassisted now. She was back to helping him out with his current caseload, and so she'd been doing background research on their main suspect.

She put some papers on his desk. "Here you go, this is what I've found so far. Nothing's jumping out, but see what you think."

He glanced at the notes, but still looked distracted. "Thanks."

Connie checked her watch. She had a doctor's appointment at four o'clock, so it was probably time to head off. She spoke up, "Right, I need to get going now. I'll probably be gone for the rest of the day."

He looked up at her. "Oh, ok. Another check up?"

She nodded, smiling. "Hopefully my last one. If I get the all clear, I'll officially be fully healed."

Mike gave her a small smile, "Glad to hear it. You should celebrate."

She paused. She hadn't really thought about that, but his words made her think - maybe this was an opportunity. She hesitated, but decided it was now or never. "Well, now that you mention it, I seem to recall that you still owe me a drink," she pointed out, being careful to keep her tone casual. She watched him closely though, waiting for his reaction.

There was surprise in his eyes, but he nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "That's true."

"Maybe we could meet up after work then, if you don't have other plans?"

There was a long pause, and she thought he might make up some excuse, but he shook his head, "No, I'm not busy." Then, he continued, with a tentative smile, "Ok, drinks would be good. If you pick the bar, I can meet you there."

She almost agreed, but then was struck by a thought. Maybe she could take this a step further. She plowed ahead before she could change her mind. "You know, actually, there's a restaurant just around the corner from my apartment I've been meaning to try." She took a deep breath. "How about dinner instead?"

This time, Mike seemed at a loss for words. That was definitely new territory for them. Sharing a few drinks was one thing, but going out to dinner together (particularly with no work pretext) implied something less friendly, and something more like... well, a date. She knew the significance of the suggestion wasn't lost on him. He gave her a searching look, but she managed to keep her face impassive, and she hoped he couldn't hear her heart pounding from where he was sitting.

Finally, he gave a small nod. "Sure. Dinner would be nice."

Connie quietly let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, and smiled at him. "Ok, great. How about you meet me at my apartment about half past seven, and we can walk there? It's not far."

He nodded again, still watching her intently. "Ok."

She forced herself to move. "I'll see you later then."

"Right."

As she left the office, she took a few calming breaths. So, she'd asked her boss to dinner, and he'd said yes. No big deal. Now, something decisive might happen between them later, or it might not.

She still wasn't completely sure what option she was hoping for, but she had a feeling the next few hours would pass very slowly.


	8. Chapter 8

Mike took a deep breath, before pressing the buzzer for Connie's apartment.

"Hello?"

"Connie, it's Mike."

There was a slight pause, then, "Right, hi. Um, I'm not quite ready to leave yet, do you mind coming up to wait?"

He headed inside, and knocked on her door. Connie answered, looking apologetic. She gave him a small smile. "Hey - I'll just be a few more minutes," she said, gesturing at her slightly damp hair and heading back towards her bedroom. "Make yourself comfortable."

His mouth went a little dry at the sight of her. She had gotten changed since leaving work, and was wearing some rather tight fitting jeans, and a top that was sleeveless, and showed rather more skin than he was used to seeing. It was still fairly casual, but he was suddenly thankful that he'd at least managed to change before he'd left the office. Fortunately, she had been too preoccupied to notice him staring at her.

Hearing the sound of a hairdryer from the other room, he sat down on the couch, stared at his hands, and tried to make himself relax a little. His mind had been racing all afternoon. He'd managed to get a bit of work done, but for most of the time, his thoughts had been elsewhere.

He'd quite deliberately been avoiding Connie recently – since his moment of stupidity before Christmas – as he'd thought it wise to create some distance between them. What they'd been doing had gotten a little dangerous, and he'd decided he needed it to stop, before anything else happened. But she'd seemed oddly unwilling to let things lie between them – continually seeking out his company, initiating non-work related conversations, and then her proposal this afternoon. He'd agreed to go out to a bar with her, despite his own mild misgivings about it. And then the invite had morphed into dinner, and there had been no good reason to refuse – it wasn't as though it was that much more of a commitment than a few drinks. She'd been casual enough when she'd made the suggestion, but he knew that she wasn't unaware of how it appeared. Like she was... asking him out. Yet she'd done it anyway. He wasn't sure what to make of it.

As far as the two of them were concerned, he'd already accepted the possibility that maybe his feelings weren't entirely one-sided. And while part of him couldn't help but feel... elated by the prospect, he couldn't forget the fact that allowing anything to happen between them was probably a bad idea. All the reasons against it were still just as valid. They still had to work together, and he didn't want to mess that up.

And there was Connie to think about, more so than himself. She would be under more scrutiny than him (particularly given her history with Woll). Developing a reputation of sleeping with co-workers might not have done Jack McCoy any real harm, but he knew that a woman getting involved with her boss was a different matter.

He felt as though he was on shaky ground, like he wasn't totally sure where they stood with each other. Or what exactly he wanted. Well, actually, he knew exactly what he _wanted_ - but he also knew he shouldn't want it. Maybe. God, he didn't know any more.

He'd finally decided the best thing to do was not assume anything, and follow Connie's lead. So, he'd changed his shirt at work, headed over to her apartment, and here he was. He considered her demeanor as she'd answered the door. She'd seemed flustered, though that might have been just because she was running late. Even so, he wondered if he wasn't the only one who was a bit uncertain about the implications of tonight. And about the current status of their relationship.

She appeared again in the living room. "Ok, all set. Sorry about that – the doctor was running late, and I forgot how much longer it takes me to get around at the moment."

Mike gave an easy shrug, standing up. "Don't worry about it."

She smiled at him again, putting on her coat. "Thanks," she said, before glancing at him. "You ready to go?"

Ready as he'd ever be. He nodded. "Sure, lead the way."

######

They reached the restaurant, and were seated at a table near the window. Mike looked around him, taking in the surroundings. It was a small Italian place – fairly quiet with a pleasant atmosphere. He guessed that it was possibly family run. He glanced at Connie, who was looking through her menu. "This seems nice. You've never been here before?"

She considered the question, glancing around as well. "Well, my sister and I came here one afternoon for coffee, and we had some cakes that were pretty great, so I thought it might be worth coming for dinner." She gave him a small smile. "The coffee wasn't brilliant though, so hopefully the food will still be good."

He shrugged, giving her a smile of his own. "Don't worry, it'll probably be much nicer than anything I would have had at home."

She looked amused. "You're not much of a cook?"

"I can manage a few basics. But most of the time I come home and just barely have the energy to microwave something."

She smiled wryly, nodding. "I know what you mean."

The waiter appeared to take their order, and then they drifted into casual conversation, which allowed Mike to loosen up slightly. Putting everything else aside, he couldn't help but enjoy Connie's company. Maybe this wasn't such a big deal after all. So they were having dinner together – there was nothing wrong with two colleagues spending time together outside the office now and then, was there? And there had been nothing to indicate it was anything more than that. Maybe he was making more out of this than he really needed to.

Their meals arrived, and they chatted as they ate. He managed to finish off most of his food – it actually _was_ fairly good - and sat back in his chair, looking around again. "Well, I think you made a great choice. It's pretty nice in here."

"Yeah, it's good to eat somewhere other than my apartment or the office once in a while."

There was silence between them for a moment, and Mike noticed Connie glancing at him, and he got the feeling she was debating with herself about something. She chewed on her lip, before looking at him seriously and saying, "Look, Mike... before Christmas..." She trailed off, and he braced himself for what was coming. She continued hesitantly, "I don't think it was just my imagination that there was something... developing. Between the two of us."

He held her gaze for a long moment. So this was it. The conversation he'd been avoiding for weeks. No hiding from it now. Well, at least he could be honest with her. "No," he said, slowly shaking his head. "You weren't imagining things." He scrubbed a hand through his hair, before continuing tentatively, "I guess we're going to have to talk about this."

Connie gave a small nod, "Yeah, I think we should." She leaned forward, resting on her elbows on the table and settling her chin in one palm, then said, "You've been avoiding me." Her tone wasn't accusing, but her eyes dared him to argue.

He wasn't about to deny it. He sighed. "I just thought... it wasn't a good idea. Spending too much time together outside work." He didn't elaborate as to why, but they both knew what he meant.

Connie was silent for a moment, and then she spoke softly, her eyes focused on her plate. "I enjoyed it. Spending time together. I think that... I'd like to carry on. See what happens." She was playing with her necklace as she looked up at him, gauging his reaction. Then she stared back down at the table, shaking her head. "I mean, I know that there are lots of reasons why we shouldn't, but... I think that it's what I want." She looked back up at him. "If you do."

Wow. There was a surge of... something in his chest at her words, and part of him wanted to just agree right away, but he had to be practical. They needed to consider the implications of this carefully - she had to be aware of the potential pitfalls. He forced himself to speak. "Connie... look, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it, and it's not that I wouldn't like to..." He shook his head, frowning as he searched for the right words. "But it would be pretty complicated." He gave her a long look. "You know people would talk."

She nodded. "I know." Then she continued slowly, "But... don't people always talk, whether there's anything going on or not?" She shrugged dismissively. "In the end, the only opinions I really care about are yours and Jack's."

He pressed on. "Still, we know who'd be more likely to lose out if we did this." Unfair as it was, she would be the one to bear the brunt of the gossip, the recriminations, if (or when) people found out about them. He shook his head again, staring at the table. "I know how important your career is to you. I just don't know how I'd feel about putting you in that position."

She gave him a gentle, slightly admonishing smile. "Isn't that up to me to decide?" Then she leaned forward again. "Look, I've thought this over a lot. And I know it could make things difficult at work. But... I think it could be worth it." She was still playing with her necklace, and even though on the surface she seemed fairly calm, he could tell she was anxious about how he would respond.

He sat back and swallowed, his mind reeling. Could he really allow himself to do this? All of his carefully constructed arguments against it seemed to disappear when faced with the reality of Connie sitting in front of him, telling him matter-of-factly that she wanted this.

Oh, who was he kidding? Like he could really turn her down. Like he had any choice at all. Frankly, if he was honest, he'd gone past the point of no return a long time ago. And, well, if she was really sure, then... that was enough for him.

He took a deep breath. "Ok."

She raised her eyebrow. "Ok?"

He nodded again slowly. "Ok, let's... see where this goes."

She exhaled slowly, and then smiled shyly at him. "Ok."

He raised his eyebrows and gave her a mildly bemused look, murmuring, almost to himself, "And there I was thinking that I was the reckless one."

She managed a bigger smile at that. "Guess you've been a bad influence on me."

The waiter appeared to clear away their plates, and Mike took a moment to try to process what had just happened. He still couldn't quite take it in. He tried taking another deep breath. He looked at Connie speculatively, trying a return to normality. "Um, so, do you want dessert?"

She considered for a moment, before shaking her head. "No, I'd better not."

"Coffee?"

She shook her head again. "I'm not sure I can stomach the coffee here." Then she looked thoughtful. "Actually, we can go back to my apartment and have coffee if you like. We could... talk over a few things."

He knew what she meant - they needed to discuss their situation, sort out exactly how to handle... whatever it was they'd agreed to. "Sure," he agreed tentatively.

He paid the bill, waving off her offer to split it, and helped her into her coat. She gave him a grateful, slightly self-conscious smile, and he allowed his hand to rest gently on the small of her back, leading her outside as they left. She didn't move away, and as they started to walk back towards her apartment building, he couldn't help but notice that they were closer together than usual, their arms brushing as they walked.

Ok, he could deal with this. Maybe it wasn't such a terrible idea after all.

######

They didn't speak much on the journey back. Mike's head was still spinning a little as Connie headed to the kitchen to make some coffee, and he tried to collect his thoughts. She appeared with their drinks, and he sat back on the couch, coffee cup held in both hands, and looked over at her. "So..."

She bit her lip. "Right." She ran a hand through her hair, then looked at him with a half-smile on her face. "I guess we should try to figure out how this will work."

He nodded, then said, "Well, keeping things away from the office seems sensible. Being discreet about it." He didn't doubt that people would find out eventually, but at least they could keep it quiet.

"Yeah," she agreed, then added, "It's nobody's business anyway."

It seemed a little early to try and define exactly what they were doing. Mike wasn't sure he was able to process the full implications of it yet anyway. So, he suggested, "Other than that... maybe just take it a step at a time?"

She smiled. "I think that sounds like a good idea."

He nodded, managing a small smile himself. "Ok then."

Having decided on that, they both relaxed a bit, and he found himself settling back into the couch, sipping his coffee as the conversation moved to more innocuous topics.

Before he knew it, his mug was empty. He looked over at Connie as he put it down on the coffee table. He thought about maybe heading home - it was getting late - but decided he could stick around a little longer.

A thought occurred to him. "So how come you didn't want dessert? I thought you said you liked the cakes in that place?"

She gave a small snort of laughter. "Well, I thought I'd better skip it - after six weeks of take-out and no exercise, my body's already crying out for mercy." She drained her own cup, and placed it next to his. "At least now I've gotten rid of my cast, I might be able to get to the gym."

Mike couldn't quite suppress a smile.

Connie raised her eyebrow. "What?"

He shrugged, before looking her over slowly and quite deliberately, then saying, "I really don't think you have anything to worry about."

She flushed slightly, giving him a small, pleased smile. They sat in silence for a moment, just looking at each other. Connie licked her lips, and he found himself once again staring at her mouth. He met her eyes, and suddenly it felt as though the room had gotten several degrees warmer than it had been previously. He took a deep breath.

Then it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to move his hand up to where a lock of hair had fallen onto her face, and brush it back, leaving his palm resting against her cheek. He saw her eyes widen slightly, but she didn't say anything, just stayed where she was, watching him. He had a strong sense of déjà vu, but told himself that he wouldn't be interrupted this time – the entire DA's office breaking the door down wouldn't be enough to stop him, not now. He leaned in towards her, and he saw her eyes drift closed.

At first, he merely brushed his lips over hers, only a ghost of a kiss really - tentative, gentle. She reacted by moving closer, her lips pressing more fully against his, and so he threaded his hand through her hair, cradling her head as he kissed her more intently. He couldn't quite believe this was happening, finally, but he made the most of it, breathing in the feeling of having her this close to him. It was even better than he'd thought it would be.

Connie's mouth opened slightly, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers as she responded, her hand coming to rest at the nape of his neck. Their movements were still quite slow, exploratory, gradually getting used to the feel of each other. His hands slid down to the bare skin of her shoulders and arms, and she shivered slightly, goose bumps rising under his touch, and ran her hands through his hair, nails raking gently over his scalp. He could taste the coffee she had been drinking, but there was something else there, maybe something that was unique to her, and he tried to commit it to memory.

Mike felt her sigh a little into his mouth, and her hands began to roam, skimming over his shoulders and then moving down to grip his back, clutching at his shirt. He pulled away slightly to kiss his way to her ear, nipping at her earlobe gently, and she made another noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan of pleasure, and he knew he would definitely remember _that_. He marveled a little at the fact that he could make her respond this way. He could quite happily spend a good portion of his time trying to elicit that reaction again.

He moved back to kiss her lips again, and the kisses grew more heated, as her arms wound around his neck, and she moaned softly as his body pressed her back against the couch. His hands moved down to her waist, slipping under the slightly loose material of her top, stroking her skin gently. It occurred to him how easy it might be to carry on, to take this further, but there was a distant part of his brain that told him that would probably be a mistake. He didn't want to be too hasty, not with something as... significant as this.

So, he reluctantly pulled away, and they sat there for a moment in silence, foreheads touching, breathing gradually slowing. Then he moved away enough to look at her, his hand cupping her face, and said reluctantly, "I should probably go." He swallowed. "I mean, I think we shouldn't rush into anything."

Connie licked her lips, still looking at his mouth, and through sheer force of will he stopped himself from just leaning in and kissing her again, good intentions be damned. "Who's rushing?" she murmured softly, before finally meeting his eyes, and nodding slowly. "No. You're probably right. Better to take things slow."

He nodded too, forcing himself to move away, and get up from the couch. She followed him to the door, and as he put on his coat, he turned to face her, looking thoughtful. "So... are you busy on Friday night?"

She thought for a moment, then shook her head. "Nope, nothing planned." Then she gave him a sly grin. "Of course, something might come up at work. My boss can be a real slave-driver at times."

He rolled his eyes. "Well, assuming you're free... Maybe I can take you to dinner?"

"I think that could be acceptable. I might even manage to be ready on time."

He tried (unsuccessfully) to contain his grin of pleasure.

Once he'd left her apartment, there was still a mild feeling of uncertainty in the pit of his stomach, but he ignored it, and focused instead on the memory of her fingers running through his hair, her body pressed against his. He realized that he probably had a slightly goofy grin on his face, but he decided not to care about that at that moment, and just enjoy the feeling.

* * *

**A/N:** So, barring any unexpected interventions by my brain, the next chapter should be the last. Will hopefully be done a little more quickly than this one.


End file.
